GTA Connections
by aslan669
Summary: A new story in the GTA universe. It has both old and new characters. R&R please, this is so that I can improve my writing, I write these stories for you, the reader, so your input is the most valuable information I have as an aspiring writer.
1. Beginnings

8TVice City, Vercetti Estate

Ken Rosenberg ran very quickly, at least for him, to catch up with Tommy before he left the mansion. He rounded the corner out of the hallway from the pool and saw him walking towards the door, whistling a little tune to himself. "Tommy, hey Tommy!" he yelled. Tommy stopped and looked at him. "What is it ken?" he asked in annoyance. Ken stopped next to him and bent over, breathing hard. "I got some bad news about victoria, and your son." Tommy's eyes went cold. "What is it?" he said softly. ken backed up a little. When it came to victoria, Tommy couldn't care less, but his son? Tommy would blow up the world to protect his son. "Well, umm, there was a shootout on the block they live in, victoria died and umm..." he was cut short by Tommy grabbing him by his neck and screaming at him. "WHAT ABOUT MY SON?!" Ken choked out an answer. "He's in... jail... right now...for killing...the shooters..." Tommy let him go. "Fuck!" he yelled. He turned to ken. "Get him out of there, bring him here." Ken looked up at him. "But Tommy.." Tommy Vercetti turned on his long time friend. "If he isn't here before the end of the week, I will kill you myself." Ken nodded. "Y-yeah, sure thing Tommy. as soon as possible." Ken went to the bar to get some ice for his neck. Then he pulled out his cell phone. Time to call in a favor.

San Andreas, Los Santos, Grove Street

Carl Johnson rolled over and picked up the phone. "Yeah?" He listened for a few seconds. "Who's this?" A few more seconds. "Fo' real? Yeah, aight dude, i'll have him on a plane ASAP, aight, later." He hung up the phone and looked over at the bodies occupying his bed. "Shit, when the hell did a third one show up?" He shook his head and got up to shower. He really should stop bringing mad dogs groupies to his house. So, Tommy Vercetti has a kid huh? He thought to himself. This could be interesting.

Las Venturas

Outside the courthouse a young man was walking up the steps. He took every step with the pride and confidence one would expect of royalty. Which he was, after a fashion, even though he didn't know it. He was on trial for a quadruple homicide. Which he didn't try to hide. When the police showed up at his mothers funeral, they were kind enough to wait for the service to end before they took him into custody. Because of the respect they showed, he didn't resist and gave his full co-operation. He told them everything he did, and wrote it down for them. They were grateful. He had a plan though. They didn't test him for drugs, and he had gone to the doctor earlier that day high as a kite, for the first time in his life. His lawyer had that paperwork on him right now. Everything was going to be thrown out because they didn't drug test him. That, and he didn't give consent for a search they did of his car, which held the murder weapon. the backup plan. It was foolproof. He grinned, four murders in plain sight of everyone, and he would get away scot free. He loved the judicial system. It was too bad it wasn't going to end that way though. What the young man didn't see was a large black armored vehicle coming around the corner. Someone had posted bail on him, so he had no police escort. The media had been kept out so he wouldn't be seen by the public as anything other than a murderer, so they weren't there. His lawyer was already inside. So the only people out there to see him were on the street. So when the black armored vehicle pulled onto the sidewalk and several masked men jumped out and put a bag over his head, the police would only know that he had been kidnapped.

Once he was in the van, the bag was pulled off and he saw a masked face looking at him. He hit it with his knee. The guys head shot forward and he head butted him, feeling a warm liquid splat on his face and heard a sharp crack. Before he could do anymore though the barrel of a cannon was put into his face. He stopped, know that this was the day he was going to die. he was not too disappointed when his life didn't flash before his eyes. "This revenge for those fuckers I killed? Cause if so, Fuck you." He said defiantly. The guys looked at each other and started laughing. The one he had hit took off his mask, as did the rest. He recognized only one of them. "Arent you that rapper guy? What the hell is going on?" Another one, a large muscular black man, spoke. "Chill out man, we're sending you to your father, in Vice City." He held out his hand. The young man stared at the hand, then took it. He was helped up. "My name is CJ, what's yours?" The young man looked around, and then laughed. They all looked at each other with confused looks on their faces. "My name's Jack, nice to meet ya." he kept laughing. His father, the one time he tries to help, he screws things up even more.

Vice City, Escobar International Airport

Ken waited for private jet to come to a complete stop. They were at the far end of the airport, in the private sector. Carl had pulled through on this one. He leaned against the limo and wondered what the guy looked like. He'd seen him once, when the kid was eight years old. He was twenty-two now. When the door opened and he watched him get off, he nearly shit in his pants. The kid looked almost exactly like Tommy. There were a few differences, but the eyes, even from this distance. Even though they were a really dark blue, the intensity was there. Dark brown hair and a clean shaven face. Hell, his hair was even short too. The kid was bigger than his old man though. According to the file he had gotten from the LSPD, he was six foot one and weighed two fifteen. All muscle. Made sense, he didn't live in the best area, but it was close to the beach. Had to look your best for the bikini girls. Jack walked up to him. They were the same height, but the kids presence dwarfed his own. "So, you taking me to my dad?" He asked. Ken put on a big shit eating grin. "Hell yeah Jackie boy, you remember me, right?" Jack grinned. "Yeah, I remember you, you showed up some years back and tried to screw my mother." The grin left ken's face. He had forgotten about that. "Well, lets not say anything about that to your dad, huh?" he said. Jack pulled back and punched him in the stomach. Hard. Ken doubled over and puked. "Sure," he said and got into the limo. "Christ..." ken got back up. New mental note, don't get on the kids bad side, he hits like a freight train.

Starfish Island, Vercetti Estate

Jack was amazed as they pulled into the huge driveway. The mansion was enormous. He didn't even see anything like it in Las Venturas. As the limo pulled to a stop in front of the mansion, he saw a man he'd only ever seen pictures of while growing up. He didn't know how to approach this man, so he thought he'd let him make the first move, then he'd decide whether or not to kill him. He got out of the limo, noticing with a slight smile that Rosenberg was having a little walking problem. he approached his father. He was taller than the man, and bigger, but the man carried a confidence in his stance. They looked at each other for a few seconds, then the man broke into a laugh and gave him a hug. "It's damn great to finally meet you son. Come on, i'll show you around." He turned around and walked into the mansion. Jack followed.

"So this is the office, where we end our tour," Tommy said about twenty minutes later. "Any questions?" Jack nodded. "Yeah, a few. One, where the hell have you been my whole life, two, where were you when mom died, and finally, why the hell did you kidnap me and bring me out here? I had that case beat before they even arrested me!" Tommy's eyes fired up and for a second it seemed like there was going to be an explosion between the two, until Jack looked around and asked another question. "Hey, did you know this looks alot like the mansion on scarface?" Tommy blinked, then laughed. "Yeah, i've thought that a few times myself. believe it or not, I actually killed a Cuban drug lord to get it too, ha ha ha!" Jack didn't laugh. Tommy stopped laughing and sat down. "Ok, fine. I was in prison and your mom was my lawyer, we had a conjugal and I knocked her up. You were six years old and in San Andreas when I got out. I planned on one more job then I was going to come out and join you, I planned on retiring. But, well, long story short, some really fucked up shit happened here and I decided that you and you're mom would be better if you didn't live with a walking target. Besides, I sent ken out there a few years ago to set you guys up for life, did I not?" Jack snorted. "Yeah, you did, but ken lost the casino to some idiot from Liberty City and it was some triad guys who got it back. For a piece, of course. They outright own it now, since they talked mom into a contract that said if she ever died they would get an option to buy it from me. Which they did, for about three hundred million. Which is now tied up in frozen accounts until the completion of my trial, and, if found not guilty, would be unfrozen and I would have my money. But now, thanks to you, I have no money. I'm now considered a runner, which means that even though I was kidnapped, I have bounty hunters on my case. A five million dollar bail bond. Thats at least a million dollar bounty. Also, the government now has three hundred million dollars to do what they want with. Thank you, you really fucking saved me." Tommy sat there, thinking. "So how did you have the case beat?" Jack frowned. "That was the easy part. I showed up and confessed after loading myself up with so much pot I could barely stand. I pulled it off though, they didn't drug test me. Earlier, right after getting high, I had gone and gotten a drug test at the hospital, said it was for a job interview. Then, they searched my trunk and found the knife I used to kill those assholes with. But they didn't have my permission, or even probable cause. They pretended like they did, but I had a hidden camera that caught them. All of that and my lawyer combined to have a mistrial before the opening statement even finished." Tommy nodded. "You're pretty goddamn smart Jack, you got that from your mom, but how did you know so much about police procedure?" It was jacks turn to laugh. "Four years of college got me two bachelors degrees, in criminal psychology and criminal justice with a minor in law." Tommy chuckled. "Were you going to be a lawyer?" Jack shook his head. "Those are almost a requirement to run a casino these days." Tommy sighed. "Well, this is what i'll do. I'll get ken to start working on getting your money without the government getting it, and i'll also see what I can do about those bounty hunters that are sure to be coming. Stay here in the meantime. Go to the beach, get laid. Use any of the cars you want. Consider it a vacation on your old man. ok?" Jack stood up and held out his hand. Tommy smiled. "Right, forgot." He pulled out his wallet and handed him a card. "Do me a favor, that's a five hundred grand limit, don't max it out in a day, take at least two." Jack grinned.

Washington Beach, Beachfront Cafe

Jack was sitting on the patio drinking a coke when he saw her. She was beautiful. maybe twenty years old. She had long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and big blue eyes. Unless he missed his guess, she was Japanese. She was average height for a woman, maybe five foot six. Slender, and well rounded. The eyes though. Those were what caught him. She was wearing black leather mini skirt with a purple belly shirt. She made her way over to his table. "Mind if I sit?" He gestured toward the chair next to him. She nodded and sat. "I haven't seen you around here before, you new?" He nodded."Hmm, a quiet type. I like that. So where are you from?" He leaned forward a little, taking a sip of his drink. "San Andreas." She smiled. "I like it there, I hope to live there someday." Jack nodded. She held out her hand. "Miya." He took it. "Jack." A loud noise brought his attention to the street. Two cars were racing down the street, they looked like your average rice burners, a Toyota and an accord. They blew past the cafe, slamming the brakes and turning simultaneous one-eighties. Miya let go of his hand. "I have to go," she said. He stood up. "Well it was nice meeting you, hope to see you again." She smiled, "I'd like that." She walked off of the patio and waited by the curb. The Toyota and accord pulled up to the side and the drivers got out. One was asian with spiked and frosted black hair. He had a small goatee. The other was a big black guy, looked like a bodybuilder. He had a bit of an afro. The asian guy spoke to Miya, looked at Jack, then ran over to the patio. Jack stood up. He came over to the table. "So you think you can hit on my property, gaijin?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "I wouldnt dream of hitting on something that belonged to you, looking at your hair, you obviously have bad taste." The man narrowed his eyes. "Very funny, don't ever come near Miya again, she belongs to me." Jack grinned. "Really? Thats funny, I kinda thought that with slavery being aboloished and this being a free country, she belonged to herself and no one else." the man kicked the table up, and Jack didn't hesitate, when the table was up in the air, he front kicked it back at the asian man, knocking him down. He then jumped over the small wall to the sidewalk, only to be confronted by the black guy. He took a swing and Jack blocked with his left forearm, uppercutting the much larger man in the jaw. The man fell back and jack forced the advantage. He kicked him behind the left knee, dropping him. Then he straight punched him with his right, finishing with his left knee to the mans face. He fell to the ground, a fractured jaw and broken nose taking him out of the extremely short fight. Jack pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed for his car. Miya ran with him. He slid across the hood and hopped into the drivers seat. Miya got into the passenger seat and he left a patch of rubber in front of the cafe. In his rearview he saw the two get into they're cars and come speeding after him. They caught up fairly quickly, he was still getting used to the streets of vice city. He decided safety wasn't an option at this point and floored it. He wove in and out of traffic, trying to lose them, but this was their city, they knew it better than him. He saw a red light coming and slammed on the brakes, causing the other two to rocket past him. He spun the wheel and applied the handbrake, letting go when he was facing the opposite direction. Gunning it, he went down a nearby alleyway. The bridge to starfish island, and the mansion, was only a few miles north of here. Unfortunately, as he passed the first bridge, he needed the second, he found to his dismay, the police station. He considered slowing down, but he was doing nearly two hundred miles per hour. He shrugged. "Fuck it." When they blew past the police station, two patrol cars started after him. When he saw a semi with a trailer attached up ahead of him, he grinned. When he got alongside it, he turned off his lights. Miya looked at him. "What are you doing?" He merely looked at her. "Houdini," and he pulled in under the trailer. She gaped wide eyed with her mouth open. "Oh my god we are going to die." She said. He snorted. "Have a little faith, this isn't the first time i've done this." She looked at him. "I can only assume Thats the reason you have a name for it?" He chuckled. The semi started to pull over to the side of the road, and he pulled over with it. After a few seconds the patrol cars went past them. Before the semi could pull back onto the road, he turned on his lights and drove out from underneath it. Five more minutes and he was pulling into his fathers mansion. When the garage door closed behind him, they got out and he quickly checked out the car for any scratches. He didn't want the first car he borrowed to come back messed up. He wanted to save that for maybe the third or fourth. Miya whistled. "R33 Nissan skyline GT-R, 02' model. 277 horsepower at 6800 rpm's, zero to forty in 2.7 seconds, hits one hundred in thirteen flat. Over a hundred in a quarter mile. With some modifications, as I saw on the way over here." Jack nodded, duly impressed. "When did you read the manual?" Miya laughed. I have one just like this at home, only, its silver." Jack looked down at the car. "But I like red." he mumbled.

Vercetti Mansion, Starfish Isle

Walking through the house, Miya marveled at the size of the place. Jack merely shrugged and led her upstairs. He was met at the top by his father. "Hey, I heard on the police scanner about a high speed chase with a red nissan skyline." Jack stopped and Miya looked a little scared. Jack smiled. "Its in the garage, and with no scratches." Tommy shook his head. "I don't care about the car, just wanted to make sure you're ok. Have fun." He nodded slightly in Miya's direction, and she blushed slightly. They said their good nights and Jack took her to his room. In the room, Miya looked around. It was barely furnished, with only a bed and some luggage. She looked at Jack curiously. "I just got here today, so I haven't had time to unpack or get some new furniture." She nodded and sat on the bed. "sooo, am I staying the night?" She asked. Jack looked at her. Man, she was beautiful. "If you don't want to, I can take you home, and if you do, you don't have to stay in here, we have alot of empty rooms that have beds." She got up and walked over to him. Putting her arms around his neck, she stood up on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips, then took him by the hand and led him to the bed. "Here is fine," she whispered.

A few days later he was riding home a PCJ900 he found in the back of his dad's garage after leaving Miya's home. He still couldn't get her last words out of his mind. "I think i'm falling in love with you Jack, see ya later." He thought it could have been a joke, but after last night, he wasn't sure. That had been something he had never experienced before. It wasn't just sex, he was sure of that. It was something else. The entire time, they just stared into each others eyes. He'd never felt anything like it. He couldn't sleep afterward either, it was like she had rejuvenated him. He just stayed up and watched her sleep. When she woke up, she smiled at him, completely happy that he was still there. He had been a little surprised, of course he was still there, and that counted in her mind. Thats what she had told him, anyway. He was taken out of his reverie by a car horn, he had drifted into the other lane. He waved and they gave him the bird. Life was good.

He pulled into a club called The Malibu that his father owned. he noticed that his father owned quite a bit of this city. Walking in, he was surprised that it was even open to the public. This club was usually closed until dark. Standing around the bar were six guys wearing suits. They looked liked they just came from a business meeting, all the suits were gray, with red ties. He walked around to the stairs leading to the office. His fathers current manager of the place was someone by the name of Emilio Valdez. Jack didn't know the connection between the two, and he didn't want to, his fathers businesses were all involved in some illegal activity or another. At the bottom of the stairs he was stopped by a large black man, who looked startled to see him there. It took Jack only a second to recognize the goon from a few nights before. The guy recognized him though. Before Jack could even react, the man pulled a large caliber pistol and aimed it at him. Jack immediately put up his hands and smiled. "Not still mad about the other night are ya?" The goon grinned back, showing some spaces where teeth used to be. Jack spoke before thinking. "You had a much nicer smile a few days..." Blackness was what he saw next.

When Jack regained consciousness, he kept his eyes closed, listening to his surroundings. Trying to, anyway. It's not like he was a fucking ninja. All he heard was an engine, and felt movement. He was in a vehicle. He risked slitting an eye to see what was going on and regretted it when he did. He was in the back of a van with three bodies. They were starting to smell too. He sighed inwardly. 'Fuck it,' he thought to himself, and sat up. There were two drivers, and four people sitting in front of him. None of them were paying any attention to him. "So where we going?" He as jovially. The four started and turned to face him. He put his hands behind his head and grinned, these idiots didn't even tie him up. 'I get no respect,' he chuckled inwardly. The goon in the passenger seat looked back, it was the black guy. He thought about giving him a name, since he didn't know it. Before he could come up with one, the goon spoke. "Your Tommy Vercetti's kid, right?" Jack's smile dropped from his face. He didn't say anything. "Yeah, I thought so. We're going to take a trip. So shut up and enjoy the ride. If you try to run, we'll have the guy's we have here kill Miya." He turned back to the front and Jack checked his pockets. Everything was gone. He quickly went for the door, and before he'd moved even a foot, there were several guns pointed at him. "I told them you were quick, they've been waiting for it." Jack sat back. "Shit."


	2. Confusion

Vercetti Estate

"Find him Ken, or so help me i'll gut you and decorate a fucking christmas tree with your insides!" Tommy screamed at him. Ken ran out of the office, dodging a paper weight that had been thrown at him. "I can't find him with my head caved in, Christ," he said quietly. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Jack's girl, he couldn't ever remember her name, only that she had a killer body, was asian, and belonged to Jack. "Mr. Rosenberg, any news?" She asked him. He sighed and shook his head. "No kid, sorry. We're working on it, but there hasn't been a ransom demand, and we don't know who took him." She nodded, her eyes tearing up. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, we're going to find him, if he doesn't just show up at the doorstep, I mean, c'mon, this is Jack Vercetti here, whoever took him doesn't have a clue who they're dealing with." She looked up at him. "What do you mean?" He hesitated, not even Tommy knew this about his son. "C'mon, lets go for a ride, I have some people to talk to anyway."

Sitting in the cheetah, Ken started to explain. "You see, Jackie isn't your typical kid. He grew up in Las Venturas, a place so corrupt that even I hated visiting there. His mom owned a casino with some Triad guys, a joint venture, she kept most of the profit, and they provided security. She was banging the head triad guy, I think. I forget his name, it sounds like a cough though. Anyway, This guy also happened to be Jackie's godfather. He grew up in the triad. He knew how to boost a car before he could walk. He also knew how to take care of himself, those chinese guys don't fuck around. He's a tough kid, very tough. Whoever has him probably has one hell of a headache right now." The girl nodded. "But you're going to find him, right?" She asked. Ken didn't like answering questions he didn't know the answers to. "Well, I know one thing, he isn't in the city anymore. There's no way anyone could keep him here, not in Tommy's city. So we have to start looking for outside help."

The police station was crowded with the usual drunks and disorderlies. Ken made his way to an office on the second floor, Miya, he'd finally remembered her name, was right behind him. He was greeted at the door by Detective Tenpenny. He had been involved in some stuff out in San Andreas and had needed to relocate quickly. Tommy had seen an opportunity in having a cop on his personal payroll and brought him out, using his political influence to get him a job and a promotion. Tenpenny at first was resistant, but eventually saw the possibilities and profit to be had working for Tommy. Now, he was next in line to be chief. "Ken Rosenberg, i'll be goddamned, you haven't graced my office with your weasely presence in at least a year. What the fuck do you want?" Ken handed him a folder. Tenpenny looked at it briefly. "Yeah, Tommy's kid, so what? I already cleared him of that high speed chase last week." Ken shook his head. "He's been kidnapped Tenpenny. We have a witness who saw it happen." Tenpenny sat down on his desk. "Well fuck, a chase then a kidnapping, he really knows how to have a good time, what's this got to do with me? Tommy's fucking rich, pay the damn ransom and leave me alone." Ken raised his voice, "There isn't any ransom! No word, no nothing, just up and gone, taken by some Japanese guy, a big black guy, and a bunch of Italians in suits, Thats all they said. Tenpenny, if he's not found, Tommy will burn this city to the ground, that's his heir, his blood, there's nothing more important to him!" Tenpenny sat thinking. "A japanese guy and a big black guy huh? With a bunch of Italians in suits? Hmm, tell you what, bring in the witness, and i'll show them some mug shots, but i'm pretty sure that I already know who it is." Miya's eyes had widened at the description of what the witness had seen. Tenpenny looked at her. "Who the fuck are you?" Ken interrupted,"She's Jackie's girlfriend,, so who do you think they are?" Tenpenny snorted. "Kyota Saotochi and Derek Boggs, two idiots from liberty city. if they have him, then he's not in Vice City anymore, he's in Liberty." Miya headed for the door. "I'll be waiting outside."

Outside Miya sat on a bench, trying to catch her breath. 'No', she thought. 'Anyone but them, please no, they'll kill him.' She started to cry, then stopped. Liberty City. She was going to be here for awhile, waiting for Mr. Rosenberg, so she pulled out her phone and hit a speed dial. "Hello...look, I know its been a while...but I need your help... Please, your my sister!... I really need it!... No, it's local... Yeah, his name is Jack Vercetti, please, find him...yes, I think I do...ok, then I know I do...please...yes i'm sure, i've never been so sure of something in my entire life, so please,... thank you, Asuka."

Marc's Bistro, Liberty City

Kyota sat at the large round table in the bistro, outwardly calm but inwardly sweating enough to put another oasis in the desert. The man across from him was the only important one. The other four were just there to kill whoever he pointed at, like doberman dogs. He was roughly six and a half feet tall, and he worked out. A lot. Kyota could see his muscles straining the seams of his tailored pinstripe suit. Maybe thirty years old, Vincent Forelli was the sole person responsible for bringing liberty city back under the control of the family. With oiled back dark hair and midnight black eyes, he was not someone to mess with. He had been gone a few years ago when everything had gone to shit, but when he returned, all of that changed. He even found the guy who was responsible for it. Kyota didn't know what he did to the guy, but Vincent wasn't very forgiving. Mercy probably wasn't even a real word to him, just something writers made up to give people hope. Which he absolutely loved to take away from them. If there were one person that Kyotoa was afraid of, it would be him. Kyota began to sweat a little on the outside.

Vincent stared at the little jap in front of him with contempt almost marring his normally calm exterior. "So what you're telling me is this, you kidnapped Tommy Vercetti's son, who none of us even knew existed until last week. Also he is right now, at this very moment, sitting in an apartment over looking the river being drugged up so bad he can barely move?" Kyota nodded. Vincent did not like the current situation. He controlled everything that went on in his city. At least on his part of it. Kidnapping wasn't part of the things he did, too many things could go wrong. Like kidnapping the son of the man who killed his father. Truth be told, he didn't mind that so much, his father had been an abusive asshole, and Vercetti simply did something he himself would have done eventually anyway. Plus, he remembered him. He had been in the room when his father had given him two suitcases full of money to go get some small business started in vice city. He had taken over the whole city, almost single handedly. No, he had never wanted trouble with Tommy, but since it was here, he had no choice. He was going to return the kid, kill the jap and his nigger, and then, hopefully, everything will go back to being normal.

"Ok, then this is what's going to happen, we're going to go see him now. I want to talk to him, i'll decide what to do with you after that." He got up from the table. "So help me, if there's even a mark on that kid, i'm going to kill every single one of your little gang." He turned and walked out the door, while he did, he pulled out a cell phone and sent a text. If the son was anything like the father, he was going to need a little help. He was met at the entrance of the Bistro by his pocket man inside the LCPD, detective Lee. 'Jesus, I can't get rid of these fucking jap's can I?' he thought to himself. It never occurred to him that all things considered, japanese people make up only a small percentage of the race as a whole.

"What is it, detective?" He asked calmly. He made sure that no one ever saw him as anything but a mountain. Mainly because no one could topple a mountain. Mountain ruled everything they could see, dominated, were cold and unyielding. If they saw him as a mountain, then they saw toppling him as an impossible task. No one would try it.

"I got an interesting phone call from another detective down in Vice City today. Seem's the son of a local political power was kidnapped by one of your boys. This wouldn't happen to be true, would it?" Before Vincent could even utter a word, his personal lawyer stepped forward. "Now detective, you wouldn't really want to know the answer to that would you? What if something even this trivial went to court and you were called as a witness? We wouldn't want you to have to choose between your employment with us and your employment with the city, would we? Mr. Forelli has nothing to do with any kidnapping of any politicians children. Now that that's cleared up, here's that lunch order you called in, and please, come again, we appreciate your patronage." Detective Lee took the offered doggy bag and tucked it under his arm. "Very well, have a nice day Mr. Forelli, Mr. Rosenberg."

Vincent looked at his lawyer. "Benjamin Rosenberg, you are a credit to your profession." Ben looked back at his boss and smiled politely. "I'm only doing what you pay me for sir." Vincent let himself have a small smile. The redheaded lawyer was as slick as an oil spill, and could make one look like a fish pissed in the ocean, for all of the bad press it would get after he was done with it. He trusted the young man more than anyone else, which always made him smile. The only person in the world he could trust was a lawyer. He got in the limo, time to meet that kid, probably fat and spoiled. Scared shitless and willing to do anything to go home. Which was exactly what Vincent needed him to be. This was turning out to be an okay day after all.

Meanwhile, Somewhere else

Jack didn't know for sure where he was. He'd spent the better part of the last week drugged and unconscious, but for some reason he had been more aware on the needle man's last visit. He'd turned his arm ever so slightly when the man had injected him, so that the needle missed the vein. The man hadn't been paying attention. The drugs were in his body, but he had only a few minutes to get out of there before the full effects hit him. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room. It was fairly small, with only enough room for the bed and a bathroom, there were maybe three feet of space on either side of the twin sized bed. He would have thought it a closet if it weren't for the bathroom. He went to the door and cracked it. In the other room, which looked to be a living room, were the four guys he had seen at the Malibu. He nodded, closing the door quietly and sitting back on the bed. He didn't have long until the man with the needle would be back, and the drugs were starting to take effect. He took a deep breath, threw open the door, and charged into the living room.

Vincent walked into the apartment, looking around with disgust. There were bullet holes in the walls, blood all over the floor, on the walls from the entrance of the building to the door, and bodies on the floor. he turned on Kyota. "Are you sure you kidnapped his son, and not Freddy fucking Krueger?!" The jap swallowed and nodded. Vincent counted the bodies. eight, all in the room. That meant the blood on the walls outside the room was probably the kids. That made things both harder and easier at the same time. He turned around and walked out. This much carnage guaranteed police involvement. He had to kill the kid now, if he was still alive. He could bring his father right to him because of the thugs on the floor. He wasn't the only Italian family in liberty, but his had history with theirs, and that history was fixing to catch up.

Three hours later, the cops were indeed on the scene, having gotten an anonymous call describing a disturbance. The detective heading the case shook his head as he looked over the crime scene. This was a disturbance like a hurricane was a windy day. Detective Burton had worked homicide in San Fierro before coming to liberty city. He was just under six feet tall, and was lean. He exercised regularly, let his dirty blond hair hang loose, and enjoyed a martini with a pink umbrella. He was a good cop though. He had been denied entry into the FBI because of his sexual preference. The resulting law suit left him with a hefty wallet and a taste for Italian made suits. he couldn't get the thought of so much injustice in the world out of his head though, so he became a cop at his hometowns police station. Soon after he was promoted to detective, and consequently had been fired because he failed to catch the killer of a local kingpin and pimp, who had been killed along with every innocent person there, in his club below the bridge. After that fiasco he had come to liberty, seeking employment. A lot of cops working here were fired from other precincts, but liberty was desperate for law enforcement, so they overlooked most of the background checks. But only then had he seen the type of carnage that was before him now. Eight bodies, some shot to shit, some killed with various kitchen utensils, one had his head caved in, and several with their necks at awkward angles. It looked like Charles Starkweather had come through here. He turned towards the three standing behind him, all rookie detectives.

"What do we know about the bodies?" The first one to speak was a balding man by the name of Kowalski. He liked cheap suits and hard liqueur, but was observant still. "We know that only four of them were local mob, they were thugs working for Forelli. The other four were Salvatore's goons. Looks like they were fighting over whatever was in the room." Burton nodded. "How do we know that?" Kowalski went over to the one bedroom and looked through the door. "There's no bodies or blood in here, this fight went over the whole apartment, but the first blow was struck just outside this door." He pointed to the outline of a body right in front of the door. "Good," Burton said. "Now how do we know that the first body was that one?" Detective McGavin spoke next."Because CSI says that his gun didn't fire a single shot, and his neck was broken. Whoever killed him came from that bedroom, and then made his way into the rest of the place. But why was he fighting both groups?" The third, and the one with the most potential, spoke. "Because whoever was in that room was dangerous, valuable, and worth fighting over." Burton once again looked the young man over. At twenty-six, he was one of the most highly decorated cops in liberty city. Usually he worked staunton, but when he made detective had been transferred to Portland. Burton didn't regret the transfer, because that brought him a young man who showed something that most detective's were lacking in liberty these days. Heart. Also, he was the only black detective in Portland, making a racial connection with several of the gangs that wasn't there before. The younger ones could look up to him as an example of what you can do if you put your mind to it. "Now finally, looking over what evidence we have, what truly happened here? This is what I think happened..."

Four hours earlier

The first person he saw just happened to be walking by the door when he threw it open. "Wha.." Was as far as he got before jack kicked him in his large gut and doubled him over. Before anyone could finish getting off of their asses, he pulled the goon's head under his arm and pulled tight, breaking his neck with the sheer force. He dropped the body and leaped into the closest person, tackling him to the ground. The small man underneath him struggled, but jack was a fighter, born and bred for survival, and although his movements were slowed, his mind was not. He jumped up, using the little Italian as a human shield, and yanked his pistol out of his hand. The first shot hit the man with the shotgun, standing not five feet away. Before he could fire the second, he was hit in the arm. He spun with it, launching the short struggling man he was using for a shield into the shooter, then jumped and rolled over the kitchen counter into said kitchen. He hit the floor and looked at his arm. It went straight through the meat of the shoulder, and he was bleeding pretty badly. He ripped off the rest of his sleeve and tried to plug the hole with it, but it wasn't working very well. He put the pistol on the floor next to him, he didn't want to shoot himself on accident, and looked around for something to hold the sleeve in place. He saw plastic wrap on the table next to some sandwich stuff, and for some reason he thought about making a sandwich. The wood exploding next to him and scratching his face, narrowly missing his eye, reminded him of the current situation. His adrenaline pumped blood and fast beating heart were accelerating the drugs in his system. He grabbed at the gun when the larger Italian goon came around the corner. "Fucking little prick! I'll fucking kill ya!" Jack rolled away as part of the floor where he was sitting disintegrated. He had grabbed the shotgun.

He got up and ran for the door into the hallway, but as soon as he stuck his head out of it, the door frame near his face exploded. He threw himself back into it, slamming into the goon who had begun to chase him. Using what strength he had, he grabbed the shotgun and headbutted the fat man in the nose. He staggered back from the blow, blood spurting. Jack fired the shotgun into his torso at point blank range, nearly cutting him in half. As he turned to the living room again, four more Italians burst through the door, all waving pistols. They saw him and stopped. He turned the shotgun to them and squeezed the trigger. It clicked. Out of ammo. They began firing and he dove over the kitchen table, kicking it up and using it for cover. Unfortunately for him, it was just a table, and unlike the movies, wasn't used as a shield for a reason. Its maybe an inch of wood trying to stop several rounds of lead flying whose speed is measure by the second. The plastic wrap had fallen off of the table, and he went to grab it, but they saw his hand and started firing. The plastic wrap was destroyed. He wanted to cry.

Another few shots came, one of them hitting the toaster and knocking down onto his chest. Then they began to reload, chuckling about how he was most certainly dead. That pissed him off, they couldn't even aim! He jumped up and grabbed the small microwave next to him, throwing it at the closest one. It hit him square in the chest, not enough to really do any damage, but enough to knock him off balance, causing him to drop his gun. The other three cursed. He grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, which was a broom with a wooden handle, and jumped over the table, bringing it down on the head of the microwave victim. It broke, and he stabbed the broken handle through the mans throat. The other three started towards him, trying to load they're revolvers faster. He smiled, finally, some luck.

He stepped sideways and kicked at the one on his left. He connected to the jaw, and upon hearing it break, he focused on the next one. The one he chose had nearly finished loading, so he grabbed a pen that was laying on the floor and leapt at him. The man tried to raise his hands to defend himself, but didn't get them up in time. He stabbed him in the eye, ripping the pen out after twisting it a little. The man shrieked in pain and fell. Jack looked at the third, who had pissed himself he was so scared. The guy looked maybe eighteen years old. Jack surged forward and up, slamming his left knee into the guys face. The guy dropped, bleeding and crying through shards of his shattered nose. The toaster was on the floor next to his feet. Jack grabbed it and started beating the goon in the head with it. When he finally noticed the crying had stopped, the guys head was unrecognizable. He smiled grimly. He had to get out of here before...and that's when he felt an unbelievable pain in his side. he screamed and stood up, swinging his elbow behind him. It connected solidly with the face of the man who's jaw he had just broken. The man howled and fell back, and jack pulled the switchblade from his side. The man charged at him and swung his right arm overhead. Jack blocked with his left and thrust the knife blade through the bottom of the mans jaw, the hilt connecting with the jaw, the end of the blade resting in the bottom of his brain.

"He then stumbled out of the room and was leaning heavily on the wall. We know that from the blood smeared on it, leaving a nice trail to the entrance of the building, now, once out here, he fell down, until someone picked him up and took him away. We need to find out who she was, and why she has him." Detective Burton looked up at the three, who looked back dubiously. "How do we know she doesn't want to kill him?" McGavin asked. Burton stood up and sighed. "Because in that case, all she would have had to do was leave him alone. With the amount of blood he lost, he would have died in an extremely short amount of time. Ok, we're done here, we need to get to the lab at the hospital and find out who's who from among the blood samples. Whoever isn't with the bodies is the guy were looking for."Kowalski asked a final question. "How do you know it was a woman who picked him up?" Burton looked back at him, maybe he had given him too much credit. He pointed to where the blood ended, where there was a small bloody triangle, with a smaller circular print. "That is the imprint of a high heel. I somehow doubt that our rescuer is a cross dresser. Now let's go."

Vercetti Mansion, Vice City

The night was quiet outside on the estate grounds. The guards were relaxed, gossiping about this or that. They didn't notice the small boat come quietly to the dock at the back, nor did they see or hear the five vehicles pull up outside of the outer walls of the perimeter. So when a dozen men came through the gates, they were surprised. That and a wetness on their throats when the unseen men behind them slit their jugulars open. There were now twenty men on the grounds, and the assault began.

Miya was sleeping in Jacks bed when she heard the door open. She jumped up, turning on the lamp beside the bed, thinking, hoping, that it was jack. Tommy flinched as the light came on. "Turn it off!" He whispered harshly at her. She did, not knowing what he was doing. "We're getting out of here, the mansion's under attack, and there's no way I can beat it back. We're going to take you to a friend of mine's house, she will take care of you until I get back with Jack, ok?" Miya nodded, confused. She went into the bathroom with her clothes, she had been sleeping in one of jacks shirts, and came out a few minutes later. Tommy put two things into her hands, one was bag, probably a backpack, and the other was a pistol. "If we get separated, don't hesitate to use it on anyone except for Ken and Myself, understand?" She nodded. "Good, do, out the window, take the ladder to the roof, I have a helicopter up there, with any luck, they won't be on the roof yet." She went to the window and opened it up, going out onto the balcony. She looked down and saw nothing. So she climbed onto the ladder next to the balcony, and slowly made her way up it. As she got near the top, she heard gunfire, and a man screamed and fell over the edge. She hugged the ladder tight, then looked up. She was about ten feet from the roof, and a ski mask with eyes looked over the edge. He saw her and shouted, pointing his rifle. A loud gunshot boomed from below her, she felt the heat of the bullet passing her head, and the ski mask exploded.

Two more almost immediately looked over, then started firing. Miya screamed and let go of the ladder. She fell into the bushes some fifteen feet below, and something heavy landed on her. She started screaming when a hand came over her mouth. "Quiet down, they think we're dead," Tommy's voice whispered fiercely in her ear. She immediately stopped struggling and went limp. After a few seconds he got up and dragged her up with him. They ran towards the dock, and found a single guard. Tommy ran full force and hit him with the giant revolver he was carrying. The hit landed on the guards head and dropped him hard. Tommy kicked the body over the edge and got into the speedboat he had parked there. She got in as well, sitting down and strapping in. Tommy started it and took off at full throttle. He glanced back at his estate and shook his head.


	3. Past

Staunton, Liberty City

Jack drifted in and out for what seemed like forever. Sometimes Miya was there, sometimes his mother, his father, Ken, nearly everyone he knew was there at one point or another. He wondered if he was dead, and merely reliving his life. He didn't know. When he finally blacked out and didn't wake up, he had decided he couldn't die just yet. When he finally awoke, it was all at once, not slowly, like usual. He sat up and looked around. He was on a bed in a decent sized bedroom. The blankets were nice and warm, and a trash can next to him held dozens of bloody bandages and wrapping. He tried to get up and fell back down. He risked trying to call out to someone, but his voice was hoarse. He realized he was thirsty and looked a round for something. He saw a pitcher of water on the stand next to the bed and reached for it. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and tried to lift it up. He could barely move it. The door opened and a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties walked in carrying some fresh bandages. She looked at him and grinned. She was short, just over five feet, but had a very nice and lean build. She had black hair and brown eyes. She looked like she might be of hispanic descent. "Well hi lover, welcome back to the real world." She set the bandage's down and came over to his side, pouring a glass of water into a cup. He grabbed it and began gulping it down. She forcefully took it from his lips. "Easy there lover boy, your body needs time to recuperate. In the mean time, Jack, let me introduce myself. My name is Mercedes Cortez, welcome to my home."

Jack frowned. He knew that name...and then it hit him. "You were in that porno, the one with the shark and the aliens, right?" Mercedes laughed. "Yeah, i'm surprised anyone even remembers that. You have a good memory. But don't get any idea's stud, those days are long behind me." He chuckled. "Well, I have someone, so don't worry, I won't be trying anything." He looked at his side. "Don't think I could if I wanted to, how did I get here?" She sighed as she took the old bandage off and put on a new one. "Well, long story short, I got a call from an old friend, and used some contacts on the street to find out where one would keep someone they didn't want found. That lead me to the apartment building you came falling out of. It was luck really, if I had been any later, you would have been dead." He nodded. "Um, what did you plan on doing to get me out of there, if you had found me before?" She laughed. "I have my ways stud, don't you worry about that. I'm just going to keep you here until my friend gets here, ok?" Jack nodded again. "Yeah, ok. Who's your friend?" She stood up. "Her name is Asuka. You'll meet her soon enough, for now, relax. You're going to need the rest, if I know Asuka."

Marc's Bistro, Portland

"So you understand? I want him found and I want him dead. Better if his body just disappeared. Gone. No more. You understand? Do whatever it is you do, and do it soon. Now go, the money and, special payment, will be delivered upon completion of the job. And remember, this kid is tough, very tough, he took out eight guys in under a few minutes. He's injured, but has probably healed up some in the last week. He's dangerous, I cant emphasize that enough. Go." The tall heavyset man stood, his face hidden by the hood of a cloak. Turning, he left the diner making no noise, with an almost supernaturally graceful speed. Vincent shuddered inwardly. He hated bringing in the Claw, but it was a necessary step. No one had seen hide nor hair of this kid, and no body had shown up. but he was here somewhere. He had to be, or Vincent would be in a lot of trouble.

Candy's House, Vice City

Miya stared out of the window in her bedroom. It's been a week since the attack on Jack's house. She knew it was his father's, but she couldn't help but refer to it as Jack's. She remembered that first night with him. After Kyota had tried to take her against her will. She had panicked and told him she was with Jack, even though she had only just met him. Kyota was going to fight him, but Jack surprised both Kyota and herself by not only fighting back, but taking Kyota's friend down and escaping. She had been going to give herself to him for that. She had wanted to save herself for the man she loved, but she couldn't think of any other way to pay him back for saving her from what was going to be a violent rape. Then the chase, Jack had remained so cool, so calm. It had made it bearable for her. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had pulled under the semi trailer, the mischievous grin on his face when the police passed. But he had not taken her. He went to sleep with her in his arms. She had felt safe, after so many of her nineteen years had been living in fear of her family. She had finally felt safe. They spent the next day with Ken showing him around the city. He had especially liked the movie studio. So much cinematic history, he said. It was right after they left the studio that he did something that made her fall in love with him.

A young boy, maybe nine, had been wandering around crying for his mother. Jack had just walked on by, and Miya had started to dislike him for ignoring the child, but he turned the corner and knelt down, touching something. When she turned the corner, she almost threw up. Laying on the ground was a woman. She had been brutally beaten and raped. Jack took off his coat and laid it over her face after straightening her clothes and closing her eyes. He then went back to the child and entertained him with magic tricks, stories and jokes while ken called the police. Not once did he tell the little boy what had happened to his mother, only that she had gone somewhere and he would see her again. He opened the boys eyes to magic with his stories and tricks, for it took the police nearly two hours to get there. When the child left, he called him uncle jack, and that was when she fell in love with him. He had showed a kindness and a protectiveness of a child's innocence in a city where innocence is stolen from everyone.

That night, she had tried again to give herself to him. He still refused. She had thought there was something wrong with her, but he only held her, and once again she fell asleep in his arms, safe from the worlds problems for another night. The second day, they had toured through his father's businesses. Jack had been very interested in the way they were run, but every time Tommy tried to explain the criminal side of it, Jack stopped him. He didn't want anything to do with the criminal element of his family's work. Tommy grudgingly accepted it. He had no choice really. Jack would have just left if it was forced on him. That night, she didn't try to give herself to him, only changed into one of his shirts and climbed into bed next to him. He welcomed her with open arms and a smile. The third day and night she would forever remember.

With the tour of the city and his father's businesses over, Jack wanted to do something special with just her. She couldn't have been happier. He had taken a boat for the day, a nice one with a huge area below deck. He taught her how to scuba dive, and they dove all day long. When night time came, they cuddled in the bed in the bottom of the boat and she told him everything about her life. He listened, to everything. When she asked him about his, he merely said, "I'm nothing special, I was born, I grew up, and one day I will die. How I grew up, where and what happened means nothing. It's what I did with my life that will be the judge of me when I die." He kissed her after that. He finally accepted her when she gave herself to him. It was the most perfect moment of her life. She hadn't even felt any pain, not enough for her to show it to him, he would've stopped and that had been the last thing she wanted.

The next day he dropped her off, and she told him she loved him. He had smiled, and kissed her. When she got out of the car as happy as anyone could be. "I love you too," She whispered aloud. "What was that?" Came a velvety voice from the doorway. She looked over and saw candy. Candy was a former prostitute turned porn star turned movie starlet turned author. She made millions because of Tommy. He even gave her one of his houses when she had been evicted from her own many years ago. She carried in a tray with two cups of something steaming on it. She set the tray down and handed Miya a cup. She took it and drank, it was green tea, her favorite. "What did you say just now? It sounded like japanese," Candy asked her. She sat on the bed next to her. Miya smiled a little. "No, it was just something that Jack said to me before he...disappeared." Candy nodded. She pulled a small book off of the tray and handed it to her. Miya looked at the book and then at Candy. "It's full of pictures of the one time that Jack came out here to visit his father, though he was so young, I kind of doubt he remembers it."

Miya opened the book, the first picture was of Jack sitting on his father's shoulder's, laughing, with a balloon tied to his left wrist. The younger Tommy was laughing as well. In the background was a pit with a lion in the background. They were at a zoo. "When he had these pictures developed, he put them in little books and gave the books to everyone he trusted. Anyone you find who has one of these can be trusted with your life." Miya turned the page. The next one was Jack at a birthday party. Candy was visible in the background. She laughed softly. "That was the day he proposed to me." Miya looked up. "Jack?" Candy nodded. "It was so cute. He walked up to me, it was his sixth birthday, and he asked me to marry him. When I asked him why he wanted to marry me, he said 'cause you're so pwetty,' just like that. I fell in love with the little guy that day. From then until he left, which was a month and a half after that, Tommy had a hard time keeping me away from him. He had a harder time with Mercedes though."

Miya looked puzzled. "A Mercedes?" Candy, still chuckling from the memories of a six year old Jack proposing, nodded. "Yeah, she was having a rough time in her life then. You see, she was in love with Tommy, but Tommy still had it bad for Jack's mom. Mercedes became very depressed, nearly suicidal, until Jack got lost in the mall and ran into her. She was crying into a cup of coffee, probably more tequila than anything else, and Jack had sat next to her by the fountain in the center of the lobby area. She didn't know he was there until she heard his little sweet voice ask her, 'Are you ok pretty lady?', she looked up and she swears she saw an angel in the form of a child. She started to cry a little bit harder and Jack got up and gave her a hug. She stopped crying, wondering who this child was, and why he was hugging her. So he told her. 'When I feel sad, my mommy hug's me and the sadness goes away.' He said it so matter of fact, like a hug could make the world's problems disappear. He was right, in her case. She sobered up after that. Tommy and I found him there, eating an ice cream she had bought him. They were inseparable from then on. She became his big sister. She gave him baths, sang him to sleep, even tried to teach him spanish. We were all fighting to spend time with him. He was here for only a few months, but he changed all of our lives so much."

"How so?" Miya asked. She loved hearing about Jack as a child. Candy smiled sadly. "Well, at the time, I was in a lot of x-rated movies. Mercedes had stopped doing them after the one we did together, but she had started heavy on drinking and drugs. Ken was heavy into cocaine, even though he didn't stop that until he came back from San Andreas. Tommy had become a little soft hearted after his son was here, but only with those he trusted. I stopped doing porn, got into serious acting, did a couple of B movies. Mercedes moved to Liberty City and started a business with financial backing from Tommy. She has a fashion store, it's one of the biggest in the country now. There were others, some have died, some have moved on. There was a real estate mogul, I only met him a few times, was a nice gentleman from Texas. He had a creepy assistant though, he once hired me when I was still for hire. He just wanted to take pictures of me in a morgue. It was disgusting. Even Mercedes' father came. He thought of Jack as a grandson."

"How could such a small child make such an impact?" Miya asked in wonder. Candy shook her head. "Jack's one of a kind. It seem's everywhere he goes he leaves some kind of impression. But..." Miya looked at her closely. "But what?" Candy sighed. "Jack is very naive. He has been protected most of his life, sheltered. When a situation comes up that he doesnt know how to deal with, he goes blank, trying to figure out what he should do. It isnt in everyday situations, but in life threatening ones. Its something that will get him killed one day. I only hope he can overcome that. He's inherently a good person, and won't do what he thinks is wrong, so he is a rarity in this world of ours."

"How do you know so much about him, having seen him for a few months a dozen years ago?" Candy looked surprised for a second. "You think i'm going to adopt him as a nephew and not keep tabs on him? I've kept an eye on him. A director I used to work with a lot moved to Las Venturas, where Jack grew up. He kept me informed. Whenever Jack got into trouble, I told Tommy and he fixed it." Candy picked up the tray and empty cups. "I cant say don't worry about him, because I do, but just know that Jack has been prepared for something like this his whole life. He didn't know it, but we secretly have been planning for this for years. Jack is going to inherit the business, and we are going to be there to make sure he succeeds. The kidnapping will end in bloodshed, and it wont be Jacks. Liberty City has a lot of dead bodies coming its way." She left then, leaving Miya even more worried than before. "Jack," she whispered into the oncoming night.

Staunton, Mercedes Apartment

Jack waited for two days, slowly getting better. Over the course of the time he spent awake with Mercedes, he found out things he never knew. She had brought out a small aged photo album with dozens of pictures of him as a child with his father, her, ken, and someone named candy. He recognized candy, but he didnt know why. Mercedes told him about everything that happened when he had come out, and he was surprised when she told him that he should consider her his older, but still very attractive, she added, sister. He laughed. The two days went by fast, but he just felt comfortable with her. He didnt know why, but he felt more accepted there in her apartment than he had anywhere his entire life, even his own home. The only other person to accept him so freely was Miya. At the thought of her he saddened. He wanted to see her so badly. The good times weren't to last, however. He needed exercise, so was jogging around the park outside of the building. When he got back up to the apartment, he lost some of the light that he still had left in his soul.


	4. Reunion

Portland Police Department, Portland

Dectective Burton's life just became one hell of a lot more complicated. He rushed down the hallway to the office of the lead dectective on the case, Dectective Lee. He burst throuhg the door, slamming it shut behind him. He tossed the file on the desk of the reclining detective. "We have a problem. A big problem." Lee casually picked up the file and looked it over, then looked more closely. "Aw shit, is this true?" He sat up and pointed a finger at the file in his hand. Burton nodded. "Just came in an hour ago. We didn't expect that, did we?" Lee shook his head. "No, we didn't. Ok, i'm going to go look a little more into this, you head on over to Staunton, there's a crime scene there that might have a connection to our boy." An hour later Burton was again shaking his head. His detective's were trying not to retch. This was nothing like the other one. This one screamed personal. The other one was a case of survival. He looked at the body on the stretcher. No, the guy they were looking for didnt do that one. The others, most definately, but not that one. He sighed. Time to get to work. "Ok boys, let's go through this..."

Mercedes Apartment

He heard a gunshot and kicked the door down in time to see four more hit mercedes' chest. The first thing he saw was mercedes laying in a pool of her own blood, with three men standing over her. The one with the gun was a large man who looked like a body builder. Jack glanced at the other two, standing slightly forward and to either side of the gunman. He charged forward, the gunman trying to raise his arm to shoot him. Jack slammed into the gunman with all of his strength, lifting him up and throwing him into the couch in the living room. He heard the other shout and start to move. Spinning, he shot out with a right fist to the first ones face. The mans nose shattered and blood spurted everywhere. Jack followed with another spin, planting his foot in the smaller mans midsection, sending him to the floor gasping for breath with several broken ribs. The third man, the one closest to his own size, had a blackjack out and swung it at him. It hit him in the head and the room darkened as he fell. He almost lost consciousness when he turned his head and was staring into the eyes of the only sibling he had ever known. He felt the rage boil and he surged up. The gunman had recovered and was walking to where his gun had fallen. The one with the new face was being helped to the couch by the blackjack man.

He screamed and threw himself at the two headed for the couch. He grabbed the one who had hit him by the head, and twisted with all of his strength. The mans neck snapped like a toothpick. The small one with the broken ribs shrieked as Jack planted his foot in the screaming mans face, grinding the mans broken nose further into it. He felt a sting in his left arm and slowly turned his head. The large goon was beginning to reload his revolver. Jack's eyes stopped him in his tracks, their murderous gaze causing him to stare in disbelief. Jack leapt backward and shot his foot out, connecting with the mans jaw. For some reason he couldn't use his left arm, so he grabbed the man by the shirt and started bashing his own head into the goon's face, until he no longer drew breath. He still heard screams of pain and looked back at the smaller goon. He grimaced and walked over...

Burton looked up at the ceiling, where previously a body had been hanging. "He didnt do that one," He whispered. "Hey boss, how do we know that he didnt pop the woman too?" McGavin asked. Burton waved absentmindedly at him. "Because, detective, only one set of prints were found on the gun, and they belonged to a low level thug who previously worked at the Forelli's dockhouse. No, he knew this woman, and he cared for her. Otherwise this scene would have most likely been a lot cleaner. Besides, he likes to kill with his hands, i'm not even sure he knows how to use a gun." McGavin snorted. "He sure as hell knows how to fight then." Burton chuckled. McGavin didnt always catch on quick, but his ability to understate thing was unparalled. He walked over to the woman, who was barely alive. She was moving, albeit weakly. He looked down at her, and could barely make the words out when she whispered, "Save him."

Unknown Frozen Room

He awoke to searing pain. Looking around, shivering from the cold, his almost glowing blue eyes sent information to his brain, trying to tell it that he was in trouble. So cold. His surroundings were unfamiliar. All he remembered was fighting some mafia thugs, and all of a sudden the front door exploded. He tried to cover Mercedes with his body, but he blacked out. Now he was in some sort of warehouse, there were chains hanging from the ceiling, and large sides of meat hanging from them. A meatlocker. His face was burning, and he didnt know why. Trying to move, he found he was stiff, and his left leg was chained to the wall with thick chains that looked strong enough to hold king kong. He was naked, freezing, could barely move, and then the light came on.

It was bright at first, and when his eyes adjusted, he puked out everything he had eaten the day before. The chunks and slabs of meat hanging from the hooks were human. Skinned, and most missing limbs. He thought a couple were children. Fear clutched his heart. He was going to die. He looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, or a tool to get the chain off of his ankle. It was then that the door opened, and someone came in. Jack couldnt see anything but his legs. He was wearing a jumpsuit of some sort. Jack waited, holding his breath. When the person came around the corner, Jack couldnt breath. The man was nearly seven feet tall, and built like a bodybuilder. He had no hair, and his face was criscrossed with scars of varying shapes and sizes. He had a large meat cleaver in his hand, one that Jack would have had to hold in both hands. The dark eyes stared at him from a pale, protruding brow. He raised the cleaver, and a plan suddenly formed in Jack's mind. He got his feet beneath him, and as soon as the scarred man swung the giant cleaver, Jack jumped to the right. The cleaver missed where his head was, instead hitting the chain holding him to the wall. To Jacks surprise, the chain broke, freeing him. He looked in shock for a second, then his eyes were drawn to the large man in front of him. The man grunted and hefted the cleaver once more. Jack took off through the hanging slabs of dead bodies, trying not to touch them. He ran for the front of the locker, which was fairly long. Once he hit the door, he realized that it wasn't a locker, but a semi trailer. He tried to lift the door latch, but it was either stuck, or he had lost a lot of strength. He had been getting injured alot recently, this last one had nearly killed him.

Not being able to lift the latch, he turned to face his would be undertaker. He saw him coming, walking slowly, savoring what would be his next kill. Jack was freezing, naked, and about to die, so he did something he hadn't done since he was a child. He tried to talk his way out of it. "Look, I don't know what your problem is with me, but, um, maybe we could work something out?" The massive man shook his head. Jack sighed. "Figures." He looked around, wondering if there might be something he could use as a weapon, temporarily, at least. The only thing he could find was a meat hook hanging from the railing on a length of chain. He reached a shaking hand out and tugged on it. To his surprise, it came loose in his hands. Grinning, he swung it in a brief circle before launching it at the big man. He was aiming for the neck, but his strength was low, and he was almost frozen. As a result, it hit the palm of the walking monsters outstretched hand, and before Jack could let go of it, the man pulled him hard. Jack flew a few feet, then slid on the floor.

It was then that he realized that the floor was frozen over as well. At least the part of it he was currently sliding on. Using the momentum from the scarred man's pull, he straightened his body and slid through the mans legs. Once behind him, he jumped up and turned, kicking the man in the nuts. The result was the same if he would have kicked a bag of fat. There was nothing there. "Oh shit, no wonder you're pissed," he said before he could stop himself. The large enuch roared angrily and spun, backhanding Jack and slamming him into a semi frozen carcass. Jack slumped to the ground, and something fell into his lap, hitting him in a very sensitive spot. Amidst the pain of that, he grabbed the object and found himself holding salvation. It was a handgun. More accurately, a cannon. Jack looked up briefly to what he had hit. It was one of the thugs from Mercedes' apartment. He had been gutted, but for some reason hadn't been completely stripped, like most of the others in there. Maybe he had been interrupted, but Jack was grateful. He pointed the gun at the big guy. He wasnt the best at using these, but at this range, he couldnt possibly miss. The man regarded him with a look resembling scorn, and Jack squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened. "Aw, come on already!" Jack yelled as he bolted towards the front of the frozen room. The trailer lurched and began to move, and Jack's heart sank. This wasnt going to end well at all. He turned and steadied himself against the wall. Glancing quickly at the gun, wondering why it hadn't fired, he noticed something and wanted to smack himself in the face. Aiming it at the giant, scarred mountain of a man, he flicked off the saftey and fired a single shot. It hit the large man in the chest, and he collapsed. Blood began to spread from the chest wound, and Jack watched him a moment more. He wasnt moving, or even making a sound. The hole in his chest was monstrous. He had no doubt that the giant was dead. He turned his attention to his current situation. He was stuck in a frozen meat trailer, naked, with a leg woung and a face wound. He wasnt going to survive long. Looking around, he found a radio. It had a CB style handset, and he turned it on. To his immense relief, it flickered on, and he grabbed the handset, pushing the button on the side.

"Hey, driver! Stop the truck, im stuck in the back of it and freezing to death!" He yelled into it. After a minute, the radio crackled to life. "You're still alive? Damn, I could've sworn the freak was in there. Well, looks like you're going to freeze to death kid, sorry, bosses orders are that you die." The radio went silent. Jack started to shed tears of pure frustration. Ever since he'd arrived in Vice City, only one good thing had happened. The rest? He screamed and started firing shots into the trailer, aimed at where the driver would be sitting. He fired six shots, and on the last one, a click. He didnt know much about guns, so he couldnt have known that his last shot had managed to pierce the trailer, the freezer motor on the other side, the back panel to the cab, and finally, the driver himself. The driver, a man who had never really done anything worthwhile in his life, decided in his last moments on earth, he didnt want to go to hell, and killing someone else because a very scary man had told him to didnt really seem like much of a reason to do it anymore. He put his foot down on the brake, and died against the wheel.

Unfortunately for Jack, the driver hadnt put his foot on the brake as he had intended, and instead landed on the accelerator before dying. Jack fell backwards as the trailer suddenly lurched forward and began swerving. He let go of the gun and scrambled for purchase on the smooth sides of the trailer, but to no avail. The truck and trailer suddenly went sideways, flipping and spinning. In the chaos, Jack hit his head on the wall of the trailer, and blacked out. He felt warmth, and wondered if his next breath would be his last.

He awoke to blurred images, and felt hands holding him underneath warm water. He struggled and struck out against the blurred image holding him down. The person let go and Jack exploded out of the water, swinging as hard as he could, connecting with someone's face. He still could barely see, and fell over as soon as the slight adrenaline rush left him. The person got up and snarled. "Little shit!" Jack could almost feel the man's foot being lifted to stomp on him, when another voice sounded throughout his ears. "Bob! Stop! He is not to be harmed." Then darkness claimed him once again.

Asuka's Club

Jack looked out of the large double sided mirror overlooking a nightclub. It was a lively night, with hip hop currently pumping out of the speakers. He had been rescued by Miya's older sister, Asuka. The family resemblance was fairly close. He had been in the river, south of where they currently were. Bob apparently was kept out of jail and off of the police radar by Asuka, and due to Miya's phone call, Asuka had told him to keep an eye out for someone fitting Jack's description. He ran the pierfront operations asuka had, and found Jack in the rear of the meat trailer. He had been covered in blood, the big scarred man's blood. The scarred man had not been there. Jack had woken when Bob was trying to get him warmed up, to keep him alive. Jack had apologized profusely, but Bob only laughed and complimented him on his left hook. He caught his reflection and winced at the scar forming on his face. It started on the inside of his right eye, went down across the bridge of his nose, and ended under his left eye. It had apparently happened when Bob had kicked in Mercedes' front door. It had been three days since then. Asuka was arranging for him to go back to Vice City. They were still trying to find out who had ordered him brought here, the driver was dead and the scarred man gone. He had wanted to call Miya, but Asuka forbid it, as she was currently under police supervision. They had been staking out her club for weeks, hoping to catch her in some shady buisness. She wouldnt tell jack what it was, and he was fine with that. He had found out that Mercedes was alive, barely, in the ICU of the local hospital. Once he found out who was responsible for sending those thugs to her place, he was going to find him and hurt him. Badly. He wanted to visit her, but she was under police protection.

Asuka had bought him clothes she thought fit him better than his normal jeans and tee shirts. So he was wearing black cargo pants with a blue tank top underneath a red long sleeve button up silk shirt. He refused to wear a tailored suit, like she had originally planned. His shoes were outside of the office door, they were regular running shoes, like he had requested. He sipped his tea. For a gangster, Asuka was surprisingly traditional. He had only known Triad growing up, and they weren't that traditional. Not in Las Venturas anyway. The office he was in was very nice, with soft and thick dark red carpeting, dark mahogany chairs with a matching desk in the shape of a semi-circle. It looked like the walls were wood paneling. There was a bar, and two big black leather couches. Asuka was currently behind the desk, going through some apparently run of the mill standard paperwork. Jack grinned a little at that. It had come under the protection of two armed japanese men who had eyed him like a hunter eyes a ten point buck.

"How many do you see?" She asked him. He counted. Two at the bar, pretending to ignore each other. One on the dance floor, sort of just walking around, not really dancing. One more over by the front door, one standing by the kitchen. "Five," he responded. She chuckled. "Thats three more than usual. Probably because of you." He turned and went over to the couch, sitting on it and looking at his tea. It was good tea. "Sorry. I know how a new face tends to rile up the locals." Asuka put her pen down and looked at him. Then came around her desk and sat down on the edge. "You know, Miya speaks very highly of you. I thought she was going to turn out to be gay, she turns down every single guy who hits on her. But you, you were the first to actually want to know her instead of her body. The two of us, her and I, we dont get along very well. Differences in opinion. But she will always be my sister, and I trust her judgement in people. If she loves you enough to call me and ask for help, then I can't say no to her. You will never become a burden to me, or our family. I already consider you a part of it." She laughed quietly. "Actually, I didnt know what to think of you, at first. When I first heard of you, and who you're father was, I pictured some fat spoiled kid. Not the muscular, good looking young man I see here before me. Then I heard about the bodies that have beeen showing up recently. The way they died, I saw the crime scene photos. My plant in the precint helped with that. I made sure any evidence of you, like blood samples, disappeared. After that, I had still expected something else. But seeing you, now, as you are sitting there on my couch, from the look in your eye and the sincerity in your voice when you apologize, I know my sister has made a good decision. Thats all i'm going to say on the matter, except for this, if you hurt my sister, I will kill you myself." Jack nodded. He had expected some sort of sisterly speech.

Vincent's Home

Vincent hefted the baseball bat, swinging it against the punching bag, hearing a solid hit. "Wooden bats are so much better than aluminum," he said to the few poeple gathered about, watching him with interest. None of them had seen him like this before. "They have more weight, swing harder, hit harder. But it's so much more than that. The smell of the bat reminds me of growing up, playing baseball in the local park with my friends." He swung the bat again, connecting once more. "The first bats, used by the pioneers of baseball, were wooden bats. Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Sandy Kaufax, all of them. They all used wooden bats." He swung the bat again with each name, and it broke against the bag on the last one. He sighed, dropping the bat on the floor. Wearing a suit, peple would think him chubby, if not fat. However, in a tee shirt, the muscles of his arms straining the fabirc, he looked anything but fat. He motioned to two of his bodyguards, and they pulled the bag down from its hook, unzipping it and letting the body inside fall out. "Not in here, do it somewhere else!" He snapped at them. "Yes sir!" They sounded in unison. He sighed, then turned to the people gathered around him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Now, i'm to understand that you have some questions for me?" There were four people there, three male and one female. The three men wore typical business attire. All wore dark blue. The only real difference between them was age. Antonio Leone was the oldest of the three, being older than Vincent by at least twenty years. The other two were his son and grandson, Thomas and Jason. Antonio had named his son after a saint, and Thomas had named his son after his favorite movie monster. Jason was the smartest of the three, and knew that Vincent was in charge. He was the ultimate diplomat, always managing to get his way while at the same time making it seem like it was someone else getting their way. Vincent didnt trust him, but knew he was good. Thomas was disappointed in his son, because Thomas favored the straight forward, leg breaking approach. Anotnio simply wanted to live in peace, and was a stickler for the old ways. They all looked similar to each other, like seeing what each one would look like at different stages if his life. Short, dark hair, light eyes, thin build. They each ran a part of the city, and thus had a say in the meetings.

Jeanette was another story. Long light brown hair, baby blue eyes, a very well endowed figure, she had begun her career as a model. Doing playboy, among various other magazines. She managed her own career, however, and was a lot smarter than anyone gave her credit for. At thirty one, she was the second youngest of the five of them. Jason being the youngest. She took over part of the city almost overnight a few years ago when everything went to hell. After repeated attempts to get her to give her part back to the families, ranging from negotiations to assassination attempts, they finally decided that she would be a better ally than an enemy, and invited her to the council. She accepted graciously, and has been the one that no one knew much about, but always came through. The others simply attributed her rise to luck, but Vincent thought different. There was something there, in her background, that had helped her gain her position. He wished he knew what it was, but so far has not been able to find it.

They were in Vincents house, the former Leone estate. Antonio had given it to him as a peace offering, and he loved it. The gym he had built in it, where they were currently standing, was his pride and joy. Everything was state of the art. He spent several hours in here each day.He ran a hand through his hair, and wiped his brow with a towel hanging from a nearby weight bench. Antonio was the first to speak. "We have come to offer our help, should you need it." Vincent shrugged. "I dont." Thomas spoke up then, "We think you do. There has been a number of dead wise guys showing up here recently. Most of them yours, some of them ours, sent to reinforce yours. There was also a large wreck down at the shipping yard a few days ago. One of your trucks. Inside of it was also a few wise guys, and a lot of dead people. Most of the missing persons cases for the last year were solved when those bodies were autopsied. Several of them people you had been placed in charge of disposing of, this doesnt look good." Vincent held out his hand, and one of his bodyguards handed him another wooden bat. Thomas reached into his jacket, and Jason finally began to speak, walking in between them as he did, almost casually. Vincent simply inspected the bat, and Thomas pulled a cigar out of his inside pocket.

"We are just offering our services, should you need them, thats all. Besides, we havent had a meeting in a while, what with all of us being involved in our own business ventures. However, we cant help you very well if we dont know whats going on, can we?" Vincent looked at him. He still didnt trust the kid, but he had a point. "Alright, fine. There is a guy who was sent up here by a family down in Vice City. He's causing hell and trying to make us look bad. I simply want him put out of the picture. He's good, but not good enough. We havent been giving him much time to rest, so its only a matter of time until we kill him, thats all." He didnt want to tell them who the guy was, or more importantly, who his father was. That would most likely end in disaster. They might find out in the course of looking for him, but he could claim he didnt know, and that would be that. Jeanette was the only one who didn't say anything, just looking at each of them in turn. Vincent really didnt like her. She had eyes as cold as a vipers, and despite having a body hotter than an eskimo in hell, he was sure her heart was colder than a polar bears nutsack.

Jeanette's Limo

Jeanette looked at her two guests in amusement. She had just picked them up from the airport, and she had never seen two people who loathed each other more. Ken Rosenberg was a lawyer, and apparently was here on behalf of Tommy Vercetti. She knew who Tommy was, he was one of two people to ever kill a Forelli and get away with it. Like the other one, he had been deemed too much of a risk to go after. So he had been left alone to build an empire down in Vice City. The other one, he only introduced himself as Frank, was a cop. He didnt have his badge, but the way he carried himself, she knew. If he was on the Vercetti payroll, then he was also a corrupt cop. She despised them. She took oaths very seriously, and as such, never swore one if she could help it. She would do anything to keep her word. It was one of her points of pride. The wording was important, of course, but with a lawyer here, any oath she might have to swear would be worded very carefully.

"So, this kid, he is very important to the Vercetti family, and it's of the utmost importance we get him back in one piece, or my insides will be christmas decorations. That why we came to you, you owe us a favor from a few years ago. Tommy Vercetti remembers who he helps, and helps those who help him. If you do this for us, not only will you not owe us anything, but we will owe you." Rosenberg was at the point of babbling. Frank simply looked at him and shook his head. "Shut the fuck up, Ken. Just shut up." He snapped at him. Turning to Jeanette, he spoke clearly, seeming to punctuate every word. "This is not someone as important as this asshole seems to think. We need him, and we need him alive. Thats all you need to know about him. Ken will give you a picture of him, and I will go to the precint here and see what I can dig up." Jeanette regarded them with a careful eye, and hid a slight smile behind her hand. This guy's resemblance to Vincent's lawyer was unmistakeable. He had less hair, but the same last name? What are the odds of that. She couldnt help but wonder if the man from Vice City and the guy they were looking for were one and the same. It was too much of a coincidence to be anything else. "Alright," She said, "I'll help you find him, but i'm also going to send one of my guys with you. His name is Claude."


	5. Finale

Asuka's Club

Jack was sitting on the couch, reading a book Asuka had laying around, when the door opened and Ken Rosenberg walked in. Jack's eye's went wide as he jumped up. "Ken! It's about damn time you showed up!" He laughed. Ken sighed deeply. "Ah kid, jackie boy, you have no idea how good it is to see you," he seemed ready to break out into tears. Jack laughed again. Ken walked across the floor to him, and four other people came in, Asuka, a tall, thin black guy, a guy wearing a black leather jacket and green cargo pants, and a very pretty brunette with bright blue eyes wearing a business dress. Jack looked them up and down, then turned to Ken. "Where's my dad?" Ken stopped, looking down at the floor. "Well, um, he couldnt come. He's known here, and him showing up would've only made it worse for you." Jack nodded. He knew his father was hated pretty much everywhere he went. "Listen, Jackie, let me introduce a few people. This here is Frank Tenpenny, he works for your pop too, this guy is Claude. He works for this pretty woman here, whose name is Jeanette. It's because of her that we were able to find you."

Jeanette looked over the young man in front of her with an appraising eye. She had seen a picture, but he seemed different from the photo. He seemed happy in it, but the young man before her looked on edge, despite the fake smile. She glanced at Claude and he nodded, taking a large envelope out of his jacket and handing it to her. She walked past the cop and shushed the lawyer. "Here," she said, offering the envelope to Jack. "That's the man who's been trying to kill you, and those close to you. Do with it what you will, and you have my support regardless of your decision." She then walked out of the office, claude following, leaving some very confused faces. Asuka followed them out.

"Why did you give him that information, and your support? That's completely unlike you." Jeanette just kept walking, "I'm not stupid. I have met two Vercetti's in my lifetime. One is a psychopath. I owe my own limited power to him. The other one is his son, and just as dangerous, if not more so. Everyone who has tried to take on either one has ended up dead. Anyone who helped them ended up better off than they were before they met them. The answer to whose side I should be on is obvious. Has been for years." Asuka stopped walking and watched the two of them leave. For years?

Back in her office, Tenpenny and Rosenberg were arguing. Jack was reading the book again, and her phone was ringing. She shook her head and sighed. "Shut up!" She yelled. When they quieted down, she answered the phone. "Yes?" The voice on the other end was a familiar one. "What?! What the hell are you doing here?!" She listened briefly, then spoke once more. "Ok. I'm coming over right now. Stay right where you are." She hung up and looked at Ken. "We're going to have words, Mr. Rosenberg."

Portland Harbor, Vincent Forelli's Yacht

"So this here's the deal, Detective Lee, you have exactly one minute to save your own life." Vincent said calmly. The day was nice, the wind blowing ever so slightly. They were far enough out from the harbor to keep any un-needed sounds to a minimum. Dectective Lee was currently unarmed and wearing only boxers, standing blindfolded with his hands handcuffed behind his back on the edge of the platform hangin off of the lower end of his yacht. If the man could not come up with a reasonable excuse as to why not only Ms. Cortez but Jack Vercetti were still alive then he would indeed, be sleeping with the fishes, see. As much as Vincent tried to avoid stereotypes, this was the most convienient way to get rid of someone. "Vince, buddy, look, I can't control your men, nor can I control that kid. There's someone else playing this game besides you, and they're good, I couldn't find a single trace of them, but things went missing." Vincent scrathed his chin with the side of the pistol he held. A nine millimeter beretta. "Outside influence? Gee, wish I would have thought of that, oh, wait, I DID!" He screamed at Lee. "I know theres someone else working against us. Your job, need I spell it out clearly, was to find out who it is!" He was starting to lose his cool. He sighed. "You know, I had high hopes for a chink like you. Give him a chance, I thought. But no, you cant seem to get your head out of your ass long enough to see this little thing we call reality! So, as far as your job goes, you're fired. Go back and do your job as a cop." Lee hesitated. "I'm free to go?" He tried to move, and Vincent shot him three times in the chest, sending him into the water. "Yes, free to go to whatever heathen god you worship and tell him you're a fuck up. Rosenberg! Let's get the hell out of here."

Ben Rosenberg grinned as he steered the small yacht away towards the shore. He loved working for this man.

Asuka's Apartment

Jack awoke to a knock on his door. Asuka's apartment had been made available to him since she stayed at the club at all times. He fumbled for the light and looked at the clock once he turned it on. It was close to three in the morning. Getting up, he tossed a shirt on and went to the peep hole. Looking out, he saw Asuka. Sighing, he smiled and opened the door. "You know, i'm beginning to not like apartments, the last couple I was in didn't turn out so..." A person flew into his arms, sobbing against his chest. He looked down and saw Miya.

Ten minutes later, Miya and Jack were sitting on Asuka's couch. Asuka had gone back to the club, and left two well armed men in the apartment. They were in the kitchen, currently. "Miya, what are you doing here?" He asked her. She had stopped crying a few minutes ago, but hadn't yet let go of him. "I was so worried about you. I couldn't wait anymore, so I came here with Mr. Rosenberg and Detective Tenpenny. But they left me at the airport and told me to call a cab to the hotel. Then they got into a limo. So I went to the hotel and waited for a couple of days, but they never came back, so I called Asuka." Jack's face twitched slightly. Ken had left her alone in this city? He was going to have a few words with the old lawyer.

"Well, i'm glad to see you, Miya. You have no idea how glad." She chuckled. "I might have an idea..." She looked at him in the face for the first time since she got there, and her eyes widened. "Oh no, what happened?" She ran her fingers lightly over his newly forming scar. "It was a door, I think, I dont really remember." He tried to evade the question, and she looked at him carefully. "Ok, we wont talk about it, want to go to bed? I'm exhausted." Jack stood up and led her to the bedroom. It was the first night of peaceful sleep he had gotten since he arrived. It would also be the last, although he didnt know it.

Hospital

The hospital was quiet, and Mercedes was drifting in and out of sleep. She was vaguely aware of people coming and speaking to her, but the painkillers they had her on kept her from forming too many conscious thoughts. So she when she sensed a presence next to her bed, changing her I.V., she thought nothing of it. But then the painkillers stopped working, and she shot straight up in the bed. Her eyes wide open, she looked around the room frantically, mouth open and unable to scream. The pain was excrutiating, and she saw who it was who had changed her I.V., a young man, with dark hair and eyes, wearing a dark blue suit. His eyes as black as midnight, and he spoke to her. "This is courtesy of Vincent Forelli, by way of the Leone family. Rest in hell." He then turned and walked away. She faded into darkness at the same time her heart monitor flatlined. Her last thought was of a small child's voice. "Don't worry 'Cedes, Jack will protect you!" The last image in her mind was of a small child, little Jack Vercetti, hugging her protectively. Yes, Jack would protect her.

The next morning, Detective Burton stood over the body of the former Mercedes Cortez. She had died in the night, an apparent brain anuerism. It had been painful, according to the doctors, but she had died with a smile on her face, for some reason. Cat scans hadn't shown any symptoms of brain trauma, or anything even related. Burton sighed, his one lead and she died. Turning to leave, he saw a young man standing in the doorway, looking at the face of the woman. He had a fresh scar across his face at a diagonal angle, and his eyes were calm. A muscular young man, good looking. Wearing everyday clothes, somewhat stylish. Burton was old enough to be his father, but that didnt stop him before. More importantly, the young man fit a certain description, except for the scar. "Excuse me, young man?" He said to the youth. The man looked at him and then turned to walk away.

Burton caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, "Hey.." that was as far as he got before he was against the wall with his own gun pointed at his left eye. The man had grabbed his hand and spun him against the wall, he knew that much for sure, but how he had gotten his gun he had no idea. "Ok, ok, calm down, I just wanted to talk. My name is Detective Burton, I want to ask you a couple of questions, thats all." He held his hands up to show he meant no harm. "Not interested." Was all the young man said. He dropped the clip into his hand and unloaded the chamber before handing the gun back to him. Burton looked at the gun as the young man walked off, popping the bullets out of the magazine one by one before dropping it into a garbage can as he turned the corner. Burton watched him go. That was him, he was sure of it. But why hadn't he killed him? Why did this guy, who was obviously a tough customer with no conscience, let him, a cop, live? Public place? No, that hadnt stopped him before. He was fast enough, but he still didnt do it. He thought he might know, but he had a couple of calls to make first.

Jeanette's House

Miya was very worried. Jack had brought her here and told her to stay put. She saw tears running down his cheeks as he walked away, before Jeanette had pulled her inside the large house. She now sat across from a man named claude who didnt speak much, and the two bodyguards Asuka had left with her. She was scared, she had never seen a look in Jacks eyes like she did when he came out of the hospital. Miya was very worried. Claude's cell phone began ringing and he picked up and opened it, putting it to his ear. After listening to the voice on the other end for a few moments, he hung up and stood, nodding at the two bodyguards. They nodded back and Claude walked out of the room. Miya wondered where he was going, and who had called him. She hoped it had nothing to do with Jack. A bad feeling began to creep into her heart. All she wanted was Jack back home safe and sound. She didn't even get to tell him about what happened in Vice City.

Outside the Forelli Mansion

Jack stood on the boat's deck, watching the large old style mansion through a pair of black binoculars with a nylon grip. He had been here all night and day, memorizing the patrol routes of the guards. The man responsible for the death of Mercedes Cortez was in there, according to Jeanette. He looked back at Claude, who was organizing their weapons. He knew how to use them, barely. Point and shoot. It couldn't be easier. He hated all of this killing, but it occured to him that not a single person he had killed would be missed. The world was better off without them. Putting the binoculars down, he began to suit up. They were a qaurter mile off shore, and with dusk approaching they wouldnt be seen swimming in to the beach. The front was heavily guarded, but his fathers own mansion had this same flaw, the back wasn't very well protected because an assault by sea would be seen and heard from far off, but he and Claude were going to swim in and take out the two guards on the beach, then go up the stairs to the back of the mansion. Once inside, they would split up and go to different areas. Claude apparently had some unfinished business with the Leone's, and Jack only wanted Vincent Forelli.

During the swim in, Jack had time to think about what he was doing. It was highly illegal, would probably get him severely injured, if not killed. He was still healing from his other injuries. He had Miya waiting for him, if he lived through this he was going to marry that girl. She hadn't asked a single question about what he had done, even though she wanted to, she just held him the night before as he cried. He didn't like that fact, him crying, but she had just held him and let him cry it out. He had a lot going for him. But, he couldn't let Mercedes' murder go unpunished. They said it was something wrong with her brain, despite there never being any evidence to support it. Someone had been bought off. He wasn't going to let it go, and that cop at the hospital looked like he was considering the paperwork involved in actually investigating it. Scum, all of them, and they deserved what Jack was fixing to do to them. They hit the beach as the sun was casting its last orange rays across the darkening sky, showing a deep red as day gave way to night. It was almost as if God knew what he was planning, and that red sky gave his approval for justice to be done, old testament style.

Forelli Mansion

The two guards walked about fifty yards apart, so when Jack came up behind one of them and put a nine inch knife between his third and fourth rib, cutting through both lung and heart, the small whimper made by the man was not heard five feet away, let alone over a hundred. He didn't know how Claude dispatched the other one, but as long as it was done quietly, he didn't care. They met at the bottom of the long wooden staircase leading up the back cliff to the back door of the mansion. Stripping off his wetsuit, Claude pulled some clothes out of his bag, tossing some to Jack. They werent going to swim back out towards the boat, since they sent it out towards the open ocean on autopilot. They didn't actually plan on being able to walk out of here alive, both knowing this was a suicide mission. They were assualting a heavily guarded fortress, but they only desired to cut the heads off of the beast, and according to their information, all the heads were in this house right here.

Jack put the clothes on, blue jeans and a black tank top with white running shoes and a white button up, he was going to die, but he would look good doing it, he thought to himself with a smile. Claude put on his usual green cargo pants and black leather jacket. "Dude, thats so 1999. Get modern," Jack said to him. Claude frowned and flipped him the bird. They checked the magazines of ammo. Jack carried two forty-five caliber colts, silencer equipped and holstered one on each leg. He felt uncomfortable with them, but he didn't have much of a choice. He also carried a silenced MP-5, a gift from Asuka. He didn't know how well he would do with it, since he had never fired one before. Claude's gift was a bit more appropriate. A riot shotgun with buckshot. Just point in the general direction and squeeze the trigger. Jack was grateful, it increased his chances of survival by a small margin.

They moved up the stairs quickly, watching the area where the two guards would meet. They had timed it so they could hit both of them at the same time and then go their own ways. As they came up on the back patio, they were greeted with a surprise. There were five guards, playing poker. Claude reacted first, spraying them with his MP-5, Jack did the same, and in a matter of seconds all five were down. The only problem was that there had been shouting and the glass behind them, leading into the kitchen, had been all but destroyed. There were shouts from inside and the two assailants split up.

Not having Claude to watch his back, Jack was trying to be extra quiet and careful as he went in through the kitchen. Almost immediately two men came running through with guns out. Jack sprayed bullets from the MP-5 in their direction, injuring one and cutting the second one across the chest, killing him. The one he injured screamed out and began firing his pistol at him. Jack ducked behind the counter and saw a loaf of bread. He remembered a similar situation recently. "Damn, i'm beginning to hate kitchens." He dropped the magazine and couldnt find the other one, then he remembered Claude taking his two extras and replacing them with the shotgun and extra shells. Dropping the MP-5, he pulled the shotgun off of his back and rolled out to the side of the counter. The man saw him almost at once, but wasn't fast enough as Jack fired a shot right into his face. The man's head, at ten feet, seemed to explode.

Jack got up and ran into the adjoining room, it was the dining room. According to the blueprints he'd seen, the stairs to the basement, where Vincent supposedly was, were in an adjoining room to this one. He went through the door to the staircase and ran into two people. Literally. The first one reacted quickly and grabbed his shotgun, Jack let go and pushed the man backwards, pulling out the two forty-fives and shooting the man twince in the chest. The other one had fallen down and was trying to get his gun out, Jack shot him once in the center of his forehead. Taking the silencers off of his pistols, Jack re-holstered them and picked up his shotgun. He had found the stairs.

Going carefully down the stairs, Jack was aware of movement at the bottom. He had to go down two flights, since the basement was two floors under the kitchen. As he rounded the last set, the door in front of him opened and a guard came through, surprised to see each other, Jack managed to react first, slamming the butt of the shotgun against the mans nose. He forgot for a second he was holding a firearm and not a club, but the guard remembered and grabbed it, trying to pull it away from him. Jack and the guard struggled, before Jack was able to point the barrel against the mans midsection and squeeze the trigger. It didnt quite blow him in half, but it did leave a bowling ball sized hole where his stomach should have been. Jack pushed the body down the stairs and went down after it, trying to clean some of the massive amount of blood and internal organs off of his face and the shotgun. He didn't think that he would have been hit by blood and stomach parts, but he was wrong. At the bottom of the stairs, two more guards rounded the corner and started firing, Jack tried to backpedal, but his feet got twisted in the remians of the first guard and he dropped the shotgun.

He began to fall forward, so he kneeled slightly and leapt forward, twisting and flipping while drawing his pistols at the same time, he landed on his feet in between the two gaurds and aimed the pistols across his chest, kneeling down and pointing them upward, firing at the same time, two shots per pistol. Two guards dropped dead, one shot in the throat and the other shot twice, once in the side and once in the face. Jack had to forcibly slow his breathing. He had almost died, it was a freaking miracle he was alive. He briefly said thanks to God, the Devil, and anyone else who had a hand in his surviving that last stunt. Looking around, he saw the door to the basement gym. His final destination.

Walking through the basement door, he was surprised at the sudden bright light. He saw a large man, easily taller and wider than himself, standing in the middle of the room, wearing a black suit with a blue pinstripe tie and white shirt. The man had gray streaks along the side of his raven black, slicked back hair. He was alone, and holding a single pistol. "Welcome to my home, Jack. My name is Vincent."

Jack stood there, his anger rising. This was him, the man who had kidnapped him, tried to kill him repeatedly, and killed Mercedes. This man, in his suit, was vaguely like the devil. A hidden evil that no one believes in until they meet him. Jack saw the look in the mans eyes right now. They were dead eyes. This man's soul had died long ago. "You've come a long way, cut through my men like a hot knife through warm butter. I've tried to have you killed, tried to, but couldn't seem to succeed. It seem's the Vercetti's are hard people to kill. So how about this, instead of killing you where you stand, how about you and I join forces? I could use a man like you. With your connections, I could put you above all others, on equal footing with me. Partners. You could have it all, wealth, fame, anything and everything you ever wanted." Jack looked him in his dead eyes with his fiery blue gaze and stepped forward. "I want Mercedes back."

Final Fight

Jack began to run, firing both pistols at Vincent, who wasted no time in returning fire. One of Vincents shots hit Jacks right hand and he dropped the pistol, spinning as he ran and firing back. The gym was empty, save for some weight equipment in the corner and a display case featuring weapons of the east. Jack kept an eye on Vincent as he re-loaded as fast as he could, trying to get done before Vincent. They both managed to finish at the same time, and opened fire on each other again. When they ran out of ammo, Vincent charged Jack, and Jack threw his pistol at the larger man. It glanced off of Vincents shoulder, and then Vincent was upon him. He picked Jack up and threw him into the glass case containing the eastern weapons.

Grabbing the nearest weapon, a katana, Jack swung it at Vincent, hitting him in the face with the weapons scabbard. Vincent fell back, grabbing his pistol and beginning to re-load, Jack jumped up and pulled the blade from its casing. "You should have joined me boy! Now you're going to die just like that little whore you like, the yakuza bitch's sister!" Jack eyes opened wide, and Vincent laughed. "What? You think I don't have surveillance on her? Who do you think her so-called bodyguards work for? Me, thats who! After I kill you, i'm going to get some young chink pussy and then kill her, or maybe kill her first, who fucking knows?!" Jack screamed and swung the blade at him. Vincent's eyes opened in surprise when the swing wasn't what he expected. Jack had spent his youth amongst the Triad, with a man named Woozie, who kept a couple of men obssesed with samurai on as bodyguards. He had been taught how to fight by them, including the whole code of Bushido, along with how to use various weapons. He had never thought it would be useful to him, but he had practiced day in and day out for nearly fifteen years.

Vincent twisted his pistol to deflect the blade. He had that katana made specifically for himself. He wanted authentic weapons, and now one was being used against him. The time he'd spent in the Navy SEALs hadn't been wasted however, despite his dishonorable discharge. He knew his way around firearms perhaps better than anyone else. The kid was using that weapon like he had been born with it in his hands though, and he didn't know if he could keep that blade from him for too much longer. He deflected three more blows before the kid switched tactics. Instead of swinging the sword at him, he sliced at the pistol, but did it from a swing that would hit Vincent if he didn't block. Smart. Vincent blocked with the pistol, and the blade sliced right through it. He dropped the remains of the pistol and grabbed the kid's wrist, twisting and forcing him to drop the sword.

Jack slammed his palm into Vincents nose, feeling and hearing it break. Vincent let go of his wrist and backed away, Jack did the same. They watched each other warily. Jack didn't know if he could take this man, he'd thought so before, but the way Vincent had deflected his slices with that pistol had spooked him. He'd never even heard of such a thing. He got ready for the fight of his life. Vincent made the first move, feinting left and going right, he was boxing. Jack went right immediately, and was surprised when a fist connected with his jaw, sending him flying. It had been a double feint. Vincent stood there, fists up, in a boxers stance, swaying lightly from foot to foot. He was fast in addition to being big. Jack stood up, taking his shirt off, leaving the tank top. He didnt want any loose ends to get caught by this guy. Vincent stopped and took off his coat and shirt, wearing a white tank top. Jack had misjudged him greatly, he had thought the man fat, but all he could see was rock solid muscle. He wasn't defined, it was like a slab of granite.

Vincent ran forward and Jack spun to the side, kicking out, Vincent ducked under it and uppercut Jack, hitting him in the solar plexus. Jack felt the air leave his body, and nearly crumbled to the floor. Vincent grabbed him, lifting him up, then hit him again, this time in the face. Jack tried to go with the hit, and spun again, trying to sweep his leg out from under him. It hit what felt like a concrete wall. Vincent laughed and grabbed his leg, turning and throwing him across the room. Jack took the fall on his shoulder, rolling with it. He thought he felt his shoulder crack. Trying to get up, Vincent came over and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him down again. "I told you i'd kill you if you didn't join me!" Vincent screamed at him. Jack rolled away, coming to his feet just in time to be caught in a football tackle from Vincent. He was slammed against a wall next to a glass mirror. He cried out in pain as he felt his ribs crack. Vincent pulled away and began to pummel him, raining blows on his body, face and head. Jack could barely see out of one eye, and was beginning to pass out. Right before he did, Vincent grabbed him and spun in a cricle with him, tossing him head first into the mirror on the wall. Jack went through it into another room, a closet. As he groaned in pain and tried to pick himself up, he looked up and saw his father, hanging from a hook. He was badly beaten and when he saw Jack, he spoke. "Son...stay...alive...", Jack's eye's widened and he screamed.

Vincent was chuckling to himself as he watched Jack staring at his soon to be dead father. He laughed out loud when he screamed. It sounded of anger and defeat. He stopped laughing when Jack stood up and turned around. He looked calm. Disturbingly so, in fact. "Accepted your inevitable death, son?" Jack shot forward, faster than should have been possible in his shape. Vincent tried to get ready for the hit, but he had relaxed himself, thinking he'd won. The fist caught him in the eye, and he stumbled back, feeling another one hitting the other eye, then his nose shattered. He had blood in his eyes, and the eyelids were slowly swelling, he couldn't see. This kid was a smart fighter. Vincent howled in pain when a knee caught him in the balls, and he doubled over in pain. He got kneed again, this time in the mouth, shooting him straight back up. He'd underestimated the wrong person, it seemed.

Jack had never been so angry in his life. This man before him was trying to take everything from him, and he didn't even know him. But he wasn't about to lose his father as he did his mother. He fought, for Mercedes, for his father, for the opportunity to smack Ken around again, for Asuka's kindness, and for Miya's love. He fought harder than he ever had, having much more to lose than his life this time. He fought for his and other's futures. When Vincent shot back up after he hit him in the mouth with his knee, Jack dropped to one knee, hitting the inside of Vincent's knees, breaking them in turn. It takes four pounds of pressure to break a knee from the side of the leg. Jack's blows surpassed two hundred pounds of pressure per hit. Vincent fell down to both knees, and Jack stepped back. He had been told that the strike he was fixing to hit Vincent with would nearly always kill his opponent. So Jack prepared himself. He surged forward, leaving the floor slightly as he shot out his left foot from the side, putting every bit of strength he had left into his foot as he hit vincent under his chin, snapping his head back and almost off his shoulders. He heard the loud crack of the neck being broken, and Vincent fell to the floor, dead.

Finale

The door burst open as Jack carried his father out of the hidden room. He felt light in his arms, and Jack didn't like it. Frank Tenpenny was the first man through the door, wearing a badge on a necklace, followed by the detective in the hospital, and then several other cops, all with flak vests and guns drawn. There was gunfire throughout the house. As soon as Tenpenny saw Jack, he ran over. Jack sat down, holding his father in his arms. Tommy looked at his son, pride in his eyes. "You turned out...fine...son,..I couldn't be...prouder. Stay alive...the world...is yours..now." Tommy Vercetti died with a smile on his face, he had done terrible things in his life, things other people would have killed him on sight for, but he had only done one good thing, and that was have a hand, however small, in raising Jack Vercetti. He died happy. Jack cried silently, and the downpour outside showed the heavens cried with him.

One week later...

Ken walked into the private room at Vice City memorial. Jack was watching the news, Miya asleep on the bed beside him, holding onto him. She hadn't left his side since they got back from Liberty. Jack looked at him, his face as happy as Ken was used to seeing it. He sighed in relief. His new boss was more of a happy go lucky guy than his father, god rest his soul. "Ok Jack, I got the info you wanted, it took a little persuasion, but I didnt spend two years doing correspondance law courses for nothing you know, I had to.." Jack cut him off. "Shut up Ken, just tell me." Ken nodded. Well, they had that in common, at least. "Ok kiddo, heres the rundown. Claude got away clean, Tenpenny helped him escape, he was hiding in a pantry in the kitchen waiting for the cops to leave. Tenpenny gave him a badge off of a dead cop and said he was with him. Asuka and Jeanette have taken over most of Liberty City now, and both Leone's are dead. There was a third one, according to Jeanette, but no one has found any paperwork proving he even existed. So, that's strange, but if he was smart, he destroyed all evidence of himself and left for parts unknown. According to Tommy's will, you get everything, and myself, along with a few others, will help you do whatever it is you want to with it. Think long and hard about it, because your decision will be one you can't take back, this isn't a video game, no saves kiddo. That's about it." Jack nodded, "Ok Ken, you can go now." Ken hesitated, he really wanted an answer, but he could wait, it was a tough time for the kid. He left, shaking his head.

Miya looked up after Ken left. "So, are you going to do what I think you are?" Jack Vercetti nodded his head. "Yeah, we're going to change the way things are, one city at a time." Miya nodded. "I'll stay with you forever, I love you." He looked at her. "I love you, too." Miya lowered her head against his chest and grinned. To everyone else, he was the same person, plus a scar. To her, though, she had seen the new look in his eyes. He was going to take over the world, and she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
